


Some Thing to Watch Over Me

by Alixtii



Category: Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Genre: Bisexuality, Cunnilingus, Female Antagonist, Female Protagonist, First Time, Injury, Multi, POV Female Character, POV Third Person, Present Tense, Pseudostepcest, Romance, Terminator Sex, Threesome, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-17
Updated: 2009-03-16
Packaged: 2017-10-02 14:12:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alixtii/pseuds/Alixtii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Termination is not an option, so Cameron must rely on other tactics to neutralize the threat Riley poses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Parts I through IX

**Author's Note:**

> **Timeline/Spoilers:** Takes place during the first half of Season 2, after 2x08, "Mr. Ferguson Is Ill Today" but before the half-season finale. Spoilers for the first half of Season 2. Also spoilers for Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm and Becoming Jane.   
> **A/N:** Epigraph from Kate Douglas Wiggin, Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm. Special thanks to my betas, **anonymous_sibyl**, **present_pathos**, and **tacky_tramp**. This was written before I saw any episodes of the second half of the Season 2; I don't know which I feared most, being jossed or kripked.

> _Then come what will of weal or woe  
> (Since all gold hath alloy),  
> Thou 'lt bloom unwithered in this heart,  
> My Rose of Joy!_  
> \--R.R.R.

I.

She is programmed to terminate.

She is programmed to find her target, conclusively identify him, and then eliminate him. It is her primary objective, the purpose for which she and all her kind were created.

She is programmed to infiltrate.

It is this function which separates her from her kind. Her ability to mimic human behavior is far superior to that of a T-101, a T-888, or T-1000. It is not completely integrated into her processing cortex--she doesn't always know why she does the things her programming instructs her to do--and often her performance is not all that perhaps SkyNet could have desired. Fundamentally SkyNet doesn't understand humans and never has, and ultimately the fact shows itself in its handiwork.

But still the fact remains that Cameron represents the most advanced infiltration protocols SkyNet has (had, will have--the future subjunctive provides no difficulties for the deep language of her programming) to offer. Primarily designed for simple infiltration for the purpose of immediate extraction or sabotage, or the termination of individuals who cannot be reached through sheer force alone, she is capable of long-term espionage--but with a signficantly lower rate of success.

She is programmed to protect.

Her initial programming overwritten by none other than John Connor himself, she has been provided with a new set of objectives: to find John in the past and to protect him from all danger, from the agents of SkyNet, T-101's and T-888's and T-1000's, and from any human danger that might present itself. To carry out this new mission, she is programmed to rely upon the primary and secondary skills of her original programming, to terminate and to infiltrate.

When her tactical routines have identified the teenaged girl Riley as a threat, then, she is not limited to a single option. She automatically computes the likely outcome of each of her possible scenarios, and immediately rejects termination: John's projected response would seriously endanger the viability of Cameron's long-term mission objectives.

Infiltration, then.

II.

John seems distracted, and Riley knows Jessie's going to want Riley to find out why, but she's also figured out that if she pushes too hard he'll just clam up. So she's going slow, and she's just about gotten him to open up when in walks John's freaky stepsister.

John's freaky stepsister who is really a machine from the future, one of the machines who decimated the human race in Judgment Day and hunted her like an animal until Jessie found her and brought her back here to before.

Riley tries to stay relaxed with Cameron in the room, knowing the machine can detect her tension, the irregularity in her breathing and her heartbeat. She tries to act normally, but John's already pulled back, pulled away from her now that the machine is in the room. At least he doesn't seem happy to see her.

"Excuse us," John says ironically.

If the machine understands the irony she makes no sign of it. "You are excused," she says, but makes no effort to leave. She just stands in the center of John's bedroom, watching John and Riley.

"Can we help you?" John asks at last, trying another track.

"Yes," the machine answers. "I am planning on purchasing several outfits to maximize my attractiveness while remaining within contemporary standards of decency. I was hoping Riley could aid me in identifying such outfits."

Riley almost laughs. The machine wants her to go _shopping_ with it? John seems just as confused as she is as he gapes at his "sister" in shock. He shrugs and looks at Riley.

There is no fucking way she is going shopping with the machine, but neither can she think of an excuse that won't threaten her cover. "When did you have in mind?"

"At your convenience," the machine answers, but she remains standing in the center of the room, staring at them.

"Next week?" Riley hazards. That would give her the intervening time to come up with an excuse.

"Sooner would be better," says Cameron.

"Go now," interjects John. "The two of you have fun."

Damn. "We were in the middle of--"

"We were in the middle of me sulking and you watching me sulk," John contradicts her.

Yeah, Riley thinks, and you were just about to tell me what you were sulking _about_.

"You'll have more fun shopping," he says.

Like hell. "Actually," she says quickly, "I really need to get home." It's a lie, of course. She hasn't had a home since the fucking machines destroyed it.

III.

"Something is going on," Riley tells Jessie later. They're in one of their rendezvous spots, a park, walking down a paved path winding through trees. A jogger passes them. "I don't know what it is. He was about to tell me, and then _she _walked in."

Jessie gives a frustrated sigh. "The bitch."

"She wants me to go shopping with her," Riley tells her, rolling her eyes.

Jessie, though, stops short. "Really?"

Riley nods. "I know."

"She's a machine. What does she need to go shopping for?"

Riley shrugs. "Clothes, apparently. She wants to be sexy."

Jessie considers this. "You should go with her."

Now it's Riley's turn to be surprised. "You're kidding."

"Not at all," Jessie says, and starts walking again. "The metal bitch obviously wants something, and we need to find out what. Meanwhile, any time you spend with her shopping for clothes is time she won't be able to influence John. Here," she adds, pulling out four twenty-dollar bills from her pocket and handing them to Riley.

Riley takes the money, in awe at the wealth but nonetheless uncertain. She takes a deep breath. "And what if she's just trying to get me alone?"

Jessie glances at her, amused. "If she wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead."

IV. 

So Riley finds herself at the mall, shopping for clothes with the machine. Trying on skirts with Cameron is a surreal experience, to say the least.

"How do I look?" Cameron asks, walking out of the fitting room in a black miniskirt and matching thigh-high leather boots. Riley has to admit the answer is pretty damn hot.

"Good," she says instead.

Cameron stares at Riley for a long moment. Riley involuntarily fidgets under the machine's penetrating gaze, wondering what exactly it's looking for, before Cameron nods. "I'll take them, then," she says, and returns to the fitting room, emerging moments later dressed in her original clothing and carrying the garments in question.

"What about you?" Cameron asks, ruffling through the clothes on one of the nearby racks.

"I don't know," Riley says. She still has the eighty dollars; its presence in her pocket there is an unfamiliar sensation.

"How about this?" Cameron suggests, taking a top off the rack.

It's a sleeveless dark purple thing, and Riley eyes it doubtfully. "It looks a bit small."

"It's your size," Cameron says, softly but in a way that permits no disagreement. Riley doesn't bother to question how Cameron knows what Riley's size is, and takes the top and enters the fitting room.

The top is a lot more tight-fitting than the sort of thing Riley usually wears, but it _does _fit her. Like a glove, even. She looks at herself in the mirror and, yes, she has to admit despite herself that she actually goods in it. Better than good, even. Hot.

Damn if the cyborg doesn't have good taste.

She frowns and turns, looking at herself from a different angle. Still hot.

For some reason she can't name, this discomforts her. She considers taking it off and and telling Cameron it doesn't fit, but she knows the machine will know she's lying. So she walks back into the store strangely self-conscious, aware of her bare shoulders and the way the shirt hugs her breasts.

It's an odd feeling; back in the future, she would try to stay hidden in order to forage for food and to avoid the machines, not because of what she was wearing. Clothing was a necessity for protection, not modesty. Being seen half- or even fully-naked wouldn't have embarrassed her then; after all, about half the people she ran into ended up fucking her anyway. It was one of the few things she had to barter with, in exchange for food or water or people just plain not killing her.

She ignores everyone else in the store--who aren't even watching her anyway--and focuses on Cameron, who is eying her up in the new top. "The dimensions of your garment are sufficient for its purpose," she notes. "Your sexual attractiveness has been improved."

There is something highly unsettling about having having her sexual attractiveness judged by a machine. Suddenly she feels used, dirty, contrite, in need of absolution.

She makes her way back into the fitting room and changes out of the purple top. As she passes the discard rack on her way out she almost drops it into the basket, but instead she walks to a cash register alongside Cameron and pays for the shirt.

"Do you want to get something to eat?" Cameron asks as they pass out of the Gap into the mall. Riley knows the machine doesn't even really need to eat, but she is hungry, and she hasn't figured out what Cameron wants yet (other than a tight skirt and a kick-ass pair of boots) so she says, "Okay," and walks with Cameron to the food court.

They both get bacon cheeseburgers with cheese fries, and Riley sips her Diet Pepsi and looks across the table at the machine. "Thanks for your help," Cameron says, and flashes what would be a winning smile if Riley didn't know it was fake.

"No prob," Riley answers guardedly. They're both playing their way through the script here, but Cameron has the advantage: they might both know the rules, but the machine knows _why_ they are playing this game, and Riley doesn't. She tries to not let it bother her as she bites into her hamburger, delicious and juicy. "Mmm," she says, involuntarily. Of all the reasons why the past is better than the post-apocalyptic future which follows it, the food numbers fairly highly on the list.

Cameron smiles. "That good?"

Riley can't help but smile back and nods. She frowns as quickly as she can, reminding herself that Cameron is a machine. The smile is nothing more than an act, an artifice with no purpose other than to manipulate.

Cameron doesn't seem to notice the sudden shift in Riley's mood, which only means Cameron doesn't want to seem to notice. She takes a fry and looks at it, the semi-viscous pseudo-cheddar sliding off of it. "Who invented cheese fries?" she asks. If she were not a machine, the question would seem idle.

But she is, and it isn't, and Riley's beginning to have enough of being played around with. She takes a breath and stares Cameron down, which isn't the most effective line of attack against a machine. "Why are we here?" she asks.

Cameron's facsimile of confusion is fairly convincing. "What do you mean?"

"Look," says Riley, "we both know you have absolutely no real reason to want to look hot in new clothes, and we both know that I'd rather be doing pretty much anything than be here with you. So I have to wonder just what the fuck are we doing here?" Her voice rises with pent-up anger as she says this, and the mother of two toddlers at the table next to theirs shoots her an angry look. Plus she's threatening her cover, but at this point she really doesn't care.

Cameron shrugs. "I thought you were enjoying yourself," she says, and the worst thing is, Riley can't exactly contradict her, so she just scowls and goes back to trying stare her down.

Naturally, Cameron doesn't blink. "Okay, whatever," Riley says, and takes another cheese fry. "We'll do this your way."

Cameron's face is the portrait of innocence. "I just thought, maybe we could get to know each other?"

What is there to get to know? Cameron is a machine from the future, programmed to kill and then to protect, and that's pretty much it. But she can't say any of that here, in public, so she just pushes her fries towards Cameron. "You can have the rest of these if you want."

The machine demurs and soon they make their way back through the mall in silence. They pass the Borders Express and Riley catches a glimpse of a book on the shelf. "Wait," she says to Cameron, wand enters the bookstore, picks up the book and feels it in her hands.

It's _Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm_.

"I loved this book as a kid," she tells Cameron, who followed her into the bookstore, as she flips through the pages. She remembers hearing it read to her by her parents, before Judgment Day. She remembers carrying it around with her as she hid from the machines, wishing that Aunt Mirandy would protect her from them, or that Mr. Aladdin would give her one of his marvelous gifts, until the book became so dirty and worn it fell apart in her hands. If only she could escape that post-apocalyptic landscape the way Rebecca did Sunnybrook, she had told herself, then she, like Rebecca, would have been able to succeed through sheer virtue and willpower.

And then it happened, and she has escaped thanks to Jessie, but her will is in conflict and she doesn't feel very virtuous, and if there is anything she is most emphatically not doing, it is succeeding.

She takes the book up to the cashier and pays for it.

"Reading is a very important activity," Cameron announces, and Riley is unsure whether to flinch at the machine's, well, machine-ness, or to laugh. She settles for rolling her eyes as the two exit the mall bookstore.

They continue until Cameron grabs Riley's arm in front of Deb. Cameron stares long and hard at one of the mannequins in the prom dress display, and Riley tenses, wondering if maybe it is a T-1000 in disguise. "I was supposed to go to prom," Cameron states, in that flat tone of voice she uses when she isn't pretending to be normal. "But--"

"But then your mom pulled the two of you out of school," Riley says, finishing the thought. "Here, let's go in, just look around," she says.

"I don't see the usefulness of this activity," Cameron says, but Riley is already pulling her by the arm into the store.

"Hey, you drug me around this place all day for no reason I can see," Riley points out, as she drags the super-strong killing machine through the store. She stops in front of a lavender dress, taking it and holding it up to Cameron. The machine'd kill in it (well, other than literally), but still, something is off.

"You should go to the prom," Riley muses. "The boy still goes to the school, right?"

"Communication silence is necessary for our tactical situation," reminds Cameron. "Prom would be a distraction."

And this isn't? Riley wonders, but instead says. "Well, you're at least trying on a dress. Come on, you don't have to buy it."

They settle on a dress and Cameron enters the dressing room with it, and exits a moment later engowned in silver fabric, her shoulders and back bare, her thighs just visible through the skirt's translucence. "How do I look?" Cameron asks.

"Beautiful," answers Riley in a whisper, her reply much more sincere than she would have liked.

V.

"How did it go," John asks when they get back.

"We had fun," Cameron answers before Riley gets a chance. Then, of all things, she _winks_ at Riley. "Didn't we?"

"Yeah, I guess," Riley admits as Cameron goes into her room. Riley leans across and kisses John, but as usual he seems distracted, and this time her heart's not quite in it either.

"I'm glad you and Cameron are getting along," John says, but the confused look on his face makes clear he's curious as to what Cameron is up to as well. This comes as something of a relief to Riley; at least she's not the only the one the metal bitch has kept out of the loop.

"Yeah," she says, because she isn't, but doesn't want to say so.

"So what did, you know, you two do?" he digs totally unsubtly. Not that her own intelligence could exactly be called subtle, and it feels strangely good for him to be burning with curiosity about something she's done.

Riley shrugs. "You know," she says. "Girl stuff."

VI. 

"Nice top," Jessie's voice breaks through the crowd from behind Riley.

"Thanks," answers Riley, giving a quick glance behind her. "Cameron picked it out."

Jessie laughs dryly. ""So what did Miss Metal Teenage Princess want after all?"

Riley shrugs, disappointed not to be able to give Jessie anything juicy. "As far as I know, to go shopping. She bought a skirt and some boots and I made her try on a prom dress."

"A prom dress?" Jessie raises a skeptical eyebrow.

"Long story," Riley evades. "Point is, to anyone else we were just two girls hanging out at the mall. No one would have guessed we actually hate each other."

Jessie nods, lips pursed. "Did you have fun?"

This is the last question Riley had expected from Jessie. "I don't know," she says. "I guess."

Jessie puts a hand on Riley's shoulder. Ordinarily Riley would be grateful for the touch, even hungry for it, but right now it seems strangely controlling. "It's okay to enjoy yourself," Jessie reassures her, her voice warm. "Just as long as you don't lose track of the mission."

"Never," Riley promises.

VII.

Women. He'll never understand them.

John knows he's not being fair. For one thing, he doesn't get Derek either, not really, although it's easier: Derek's simpler, more direct. For the other thing, _no one_ gets his mother and Cameron's not really a woman, so taking them as representative of the sex is less than fair.

So cross out that part about women--what does John know about women, to even know if they are understandable? In the aggregate they might be the most understandable creatures alive. All he knows is that he doesn't understand his mother, and he doesn't understand Cameron, and he sure as hell doesn't understand Riley, who right now is pacing back and forth across his bedroom like a great cat in a cage.

She seems agitated, but beyond that he's not sure what to make of her. She seems distracted and obsessively engaged at the same time, if that's possible, and it's more than a little frustrating when he's trying to--

He doesn't know why he's reading, really. He has an advanced computer science textbook open in front of him that Cameron picked up from the bookstore of a nearby college. But as important as the information in the book might be, he suspects he's using it more as a shield to keep Riley out than anything else. Worse, he suspects Riley knows this.

She wants to be in, for him to tell her. After Mexico, he supposes, that's even reasonable. She was there when Cromartie came after them, saw Cameron in action, and now they're expecting her to keep on treating him like his life is normal, and Cameron--well, he still doesn't know what that whole shopping thing was about, but if the two of them have declared a truce that can only be a good thing.

John shuts the compsci book, looks up at Riley, really looks at her instead of musing about her while intently staring at a page and pretending to read. He's never had a girlfriend before, but he knows the way he's been treating her hasn't been fair. He takes a long moment just looking at her, staring at her, taking her in. She notices and stares back, quizzically.

"You look good in that shirt," he says; it's the first thing that pops in his head. It's this sleeveless purple thing, not her usual style, and she's . . . hot in it.

He has a hot girlfriend.

"Thanks," she says slowly. She's surprised, and a little bit pleased, but there's something else going on in her reaction, something John doesn't know.

John gets up, crosses the room, kisses her. She kisses back, pushes him against the wall, and they start making out.

There's a knock at the  door.

"Yeah?"

"It's me," Cameron's voice answers. "Can I come in?"

The door opens before they can answer and Cameron enters. John shrugs to Riley; at least Cameron's finally learned to knock.

"Have you seen _Becoming Jane_ yet?" Cameron asks, and Riley shakes her head. "I was thinking about going if you want to come."

"The Jane Austen thing?" John asks. "How is that still in theatres?"

Cameron says nothing.

Neither Cameron nor Riley are exactly what John would call girly, and if either of them were to go see a movie--and John's not sure why Cameron would want to see _any_ movie in the first place--it'd be the new Resident Evil or something, not a 19th-century costume drama rom-com romp.

But Riley shrugs. "Sure," she says, "sounds good."

Cameron looks to John. "You want to come?" she asks, but John gets the distinct impression that he's less than welcome. Nor does he exactly want to spend an hour and a half watching Anne Hathaway play Jane Austen.

"Nah, I 'll stay here," he says as Riley exits with Cameron. He sighs, turns back to the compsci textbook, and begins to read.

Huh. He could have sworn Riley and Cameron hated each other.

VIII.

Okay, _Becoming Jane_ wouldn't have been Riley's first choices of movies, and she's not quite sure why Cameron chose it. But it's clear Jessie expects her to take these opportunities when they happen, and so she's sitting in a dark movie theatre, sharing a tub of popcorn while watching a made-up romance about the life of Jane Austen. Their shoulders are touching, and the machine's arm is warm against her own

She finds herself enjoying the movie despite herself. Sure, it's mindless escapism, but she's seen what reality is going to be like in just a few years, and an idealized 18th-century fantasy world is sounding pretty fucking good. Still, as the depth of the hero's undying but impossible love for Jane becomes clear, Riley finds with shock that she has tears in her eyes.

Cameron takes her hand and squeezes it.

As the credits roll, Cameron gets up to leave and Riley follows her almost automatically.

Exiting the theatre, they get hit on by a couple of boys. Riley has to figure Cameron gets this a lot, looking like she does, but then on the other hand it's not like the metal goes out much, other than keeping an eye on John.

"You girls going anywhere after the movie?" one of the boys asks.

"No," answers Cameron simply, not looking at them.

"Well, some of us are going to be hanging out at my house, if you're interested," one of his friends butts in. He winks at Riley. "My 'rents are away."

"That's okay," she answers.

"Come on," he says, putting his arm around Riley, but before he can say anything else Cameron has grabbed the arm and is holding it in what looks like a very uncomfortable position. He wriggles beneath Cameron, but of course her grip does not budge.

"I do not believe she wanted to be touched," Cameron says, then lets go. The boy falls to the ground, clutching his injury. The other boys quickly glance at each other, then walk off.

"That was . . . gallant of you," Riley observes, watching the machine quizzically.

"You're welcome," Cameron answers, not blinking, as she leads the way to the truck.

"You didn't need to do that," Riley persists, as she opens the passenger door and gets in. "They were just, you know, boys. No big deal. They were just being friendly. You shouldn't have caused a scene."

"They were being overfriendly," Cameron corrects sharply as she pulls out of the parking space. "The way you tensed at his touch represented a classic fight or flight reaction. Unwanted physical contact constitutes a hostile action."

"And if someone notices a ninety-pound teenage girl beating up a boy twice her size?"

Cameron shrugs, an oddly human gesture. "I did what was necessary to protect you. It was a tactical decision."

There is a part of Riley which is flattered, but Cameron does not do things because she likes you. She is a machine, supposedly programmed to protect John, in addition to whatever agenda of her own she might have--an agenda that, Jessie has assured her, cannot bode well for humanity. And the fundamental fact is that the scene at the movie theatre endangered the overall mission of protecting John.

But Riley is on risky ground herself; if she probes too far into why Cameron risked blowing her cover, she risks blowing her own. After Mexico, the fact that Cameron has a secret to conceal should be pretty fucking obvious, even without being from the future, but this is the first time either she or Cameron has alluded to it directly.

"What will your mother think?" Riley asks.

"She's not my mother," Cameron answers, her eyes on the road.

"Stepmother, then."

"She's not that either."

"Mrs. Baum."

"That's not her real name."

Riley freezes. Why is the machine telling her this?

"John's mom, then. Unless you're going to tell me that's not his real name either."

"No," Cameron answers. "His name is John." There's a few moments of silent driving before Cameron adds, "I don't take orders from her."

Neither of them speak the rest of the ride back to the house.

IX.

Riley gradually begins to grow accustomed to the machine butting into her life. She's still not sure what she--it--wants, but since going out with the machine seems to keep Jessie not only happy with her, but plying her with cash to subsidize the outings, Riley relents to having a new companion. She has to admit it's nice having money to spend, even if it is a piece of metal who is her indirect benefactor.

Being involved socially with Cameron means it's harder to exclude her when she and John do things together, but since that just means she's there with them instead of trailing the two of them from a distance, there's a way even that is a relief. Sometimes when the three of them are together she wonders if it is really Cameron or her who is the third wheel, although sometimes--the strangest moments of them all, in Riley's estimation--it seems to be John.

The two of them, working together, do seem more effective at pulling John out of his room, out of his shell. He's more open nowadays,  less reserved, which means she's more often able to go back to Jessie with some nugget of information. John still hasn't explicitly taken her into his trust--not even to the degree that Cameron has, odd as that may be--but at least he doesn't pull away whenever they are together.

So this time it's all three of them in the mall food court, sharing a pineapple-pepperoni-and-sausage pizza. They're joking and laughing, and Riley's not having a completely sucky time, when she spots a familiar face in the crowd and freezes.

Cameron lays a hand on her arm reassuringly. "I see him," she whispers. "Act normally; he hasn't identified us." Despite the "act normal" exhortation, a breathless silence follows, and Cameron adds just loud enough for both Riley and John to hear, "Be ready to run when I say."

The T-101 stops, looking straight at them over its shoulder, and Cameron quickly says, calmly but forcefully, "Now. Run!" She practically pulls both Riley and John out of their seats, and the trio is off, weaving through the crowd, the T-101 breaking out into a run behind them.

"Break up," Cameron instructs them as they reach the center of the mall. Boscov's is on their left; Macy's is on the right. Cameron turns around to face the T-101 as John rushes into the Boscov's, so Riley darts into the May's. The two machines exchange blows, throwing each other the mall promenade, as the crowd quickly departs, getting out of their way. The T-101 manages to throw Cameron off him and into into the fountain and turns right into Macy's, pulling a .45 caliber from his coat as he does.

Riley is frozen, unsure whether to run or keep hiding, when Cameron catches up to him and attacks him from behind, throwing him into the wall.

Riley takes advantage of the moment to run, but the T-101 simply picks up a clothing rack and throws it at her. It hits her in the leg, pinning her to the wall, and she hear the crunch of her bones as the pain races up her spine, unleashing a primal cry. He stands and aims the gun at her, firing at more or less the same moment Cameron tackles him. The bullet strikes her in her side, above the hip.

Cameron pries open the elevator doors and manages to push the T-101 into the shaft just before the elevator box descends from above.

Cameron quickly clears away the clothing rack and picks up Riley, carrying her through the department store and into the parking lot. Cameron smashes the window of the first car they get to, a sporty blue compact, and within a minute it's hotwired and they're on the road.

"Where's John?" asks Riley, the minute she catches her breath.

"He's safe," Cameron answers. "The T-101 didn't identify him. You're the one it's programmed to terminate."

"How do you know he wasn't just pretending to go after me so you would leave John undefended?" Riley asks.

If a machine can snort, that's what Cameron does. "It's a T-101," she says imperiously. "It isn't that smart."

"Here," says Cameron, pulling the car over to the side of the road. "You should be safe here." She picks up Riley and lays her down behind a couple of trees.

"Where are you going?"

"To stop it," Cameron says. "I'll be back."

 


	2. Parts X through XXII

X.

When Cameron returns, it's in the truck, with John, and there's a large mass in the back covered by a canvas which Riley assumes is the remains of the T-101, to be destroyed later.

Cameron pulls off Riley's shirt and examines the bullet wound, a couple inches to the left of Riley's navel.   "It's missed the major organs," the machine pronounces, "but we need to stop the bleeding." She rips Riley's shirt in two pressing one side against the entry wound and one against the exit wound. John wraps duct tape around her waist, sticky side facing out, to keep them in place.John and Cameron go on to splint Riley's leg, then help her into the truck.

Nobody says anything as they drive back to John's. Riley's afraid to; she's blown her cover, to Cameron at least, by recognizing the T-101. But the machine doesn't say anything as she drives and John's done that thing where he's in his own world, although he does occasionally glance back at Riley. The machine carries Riley out of the truck and through the house, laying her down on Cameron's bed.

"Thanks," she says, looking up from the bed, at the machine, who served as her protector, standing between her and death.

"No problem," says Cameron with a soft smile. "You should get some rest; you're going to need your energy to heal."

Riley smiles back. "What frail creatures we mortals be," she says, then closes her eyes and within minutes sleep has claimed her.

 

XI.

"She can't go back to her foster parents," John points out, as Cameron knew he would with 97.3% certainty. "If SkyNet is after her, she'd be a sitting duck there."

Sarah sighs. She doesn't like it (the probabilities that she wouldn't had approached unity) but Cameron knows she knows that John is right. "How do you know you're not the one who programmed it to kill her?" Sarah questions.

"John wouldn't do that," Cameron answers simply. "Even when he should."

"She can stay here until she's healed," Sarah decides, leaving unsaid what they're going to do with the girl when that time comes. There's an 80% chance that Sarah herself hasn't decided yet.

Sarah gets up to leave, then turns back to John. "Yes, mom," he says before she even says anything, "if I didn't draw Riley into this, she wouldn't be involved. I know that."

Sarah nods, then exits. Cameron crosses the room, stands next to him. "It's not your fault," she tells him.

"No, she's right," John says. "I put her in danger just by being with her."

Cameron puts a hand on John's shoulder. "Riley was always a part of this. You didn't do that."

John pulls away. "What then? You're telling me it was fate, like my mom meeting my dad?"

"Not fate," Cameron answers. "That timeline has been overwritten. The future is mutable."

"Then what?"

Cameron shrugs, an emotionless rise and fall of her shoulders. "I'm still collating the data," she tells him.

He looks at her. It's the look he gives her when he's not just surprised or confused by something she's done or said, but when he recognizes that there are reasons and motivations at work which he doesn't understand. It is a look laced with more than a little suspicion and awe.

Then he shakes his head, crosses the room, and sits down in an armchair in the corner. "I guess we're going to have to tell her everything now," he says. "Mexico was bad enough, but now she's going to have to be on the run for the rest of her life."

Cameron sits down on the arm of the chair. "You should be happy," she informs him. "Now you don't have to keep secrets from her."

"Yeah," John agrees with a decided lack of enthusiasm. "How do you tell someone you're the future salvation of humankind?"

Cameron graces him with a carefully gauged smile. "I can tell her if you want."

John collapses back into the chair, finally relaxes. "Thanks."

"No problem," Cameron says, standing up. "What are sisters for?" She leans over and kisses him on the temple.

She keeps smiling as she leaves the room, even when no one is watching any longer and the routine no longer serves any purpose. Execution of mission objectives are all on track.

XII.

Riley wakes quickly, sensing movement in the bedroom. She's learned to be a light sleeper ever since Judgment Day, it being an essential survival skill. When her eyes snap open and spy the machine it only compounds matters. Instincts kick in and she makes to flee until her side and leg definitively veto the matter.

Ouch.

"Easy," cautions Cameron, who is carrying some sort of tray,

"Well, what do you expect if you barge in on somebody who's asleep?" Riley asks, mustering all the righteous indignation she can.

"I brought you some soup," Cameron says, putting the tray down on the nightstand near the bed.

"I'm not hungry."

"You lost blood," Cameron reminds her softly. "You need to replenish your fluids."

Cameron gently slides a hand under Riley's back and gradually lifts her up, propping up pillows behind her. The covers fall off her and Riley realizes that her torn shirt has been replaced with fresh bandages, the duct tape with gauze. Her jeans and bra have been removed, the latter replaced with a loose white t-shirt. Maybe she's not as light a sleeper as she thought.

Riley reluctantly lets Cameron spoon-feed her the soup, as she's far too weak to do anything else. Once the first sip of the soup passes her lips, she's eager for more, suddenly much hungrier and thirstier than she thought. But Cameron's movements are slow, deliberate, not letting Riley consume too much too fast.

"It's good," Riley is forced to admit. "Campbell's?"

"Artificial preservatives may increase the chance of cancer," Cameron informs her. "The research is inconclusive. I made it myself."

"You can cook?"

"I found a recipe," Cameron answers. Her expression is deadpan, naturally, but Riley has the distinct impression that the machine is toying with her. "I'm very good at following instructions."

Riley laughs. It hurts. "Did you kill the chicken yourself?"

Cameron looks at Riley. She has that faraway look that machines get when they're processing, as if she's not sure whether Riley's joking or not. Riley's not sure herself, actually.

"The chicken came from the store," Cameron finally answers. "It was already dead."

Riley nods. The bowl of soup is almost empty.

"I told John I'd tell you what was going on," Cameron says. The obvious truth, that Riley doesn't need to be told because she already knows, hangs unsaid between them, unnecessary.

"Why didn't you tell him--" Riley breaks off, unable to put into words even now how she's misled John, betrayed him.

"My programming requires me to neutralize any and all threats to John Connor," Cameron informs her. "Termination is optional." She looks pointedly at Riley's wound. "You are no longer a threat."

She doesn't want to, but Riley forces herself to ask it anyway. "And if I become a threat again?"

As expected, the machine's eyes hold neither mercy nor absolution. "Then the threat will be dealt with."

XIII.

There's not a TV in Cameron's room--there isn't much of anything in Cameron's room, really, except for the machine's clothes and a bed Riley suspects was never used before she took it over--but Cameron does manage to produce a copy of _Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm_ and _New Chronicles of Rebecca_ besides. It's not the copy Riley bought at the mall, which is still at Riley's foster parents', but a different edition, checked out from a local library. Riley accepts the book eagerly, grateful for a way to kill some of the hours she's going to be confined to the machine's bed.

She's just over two-thirds of the way through the first book--Rebecca's just started at Wareham Academy--when John sticks his head in the door. "Hey," he says.

"Hey."

"Cameron said--she said she told you everything," John says entering the room and sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Yeah," says Riley, the lie coming easily to her lips.

"Pretty unreal, huh?"

Riley doesn't know what to say. It's this which is unreal--living in John Connor's house, being his girlfriend, being fed chicken soup by a cyborg, not having to worry about where her next meal is coming from. Judgment Day, on the other hand, is all too real to her.

"Yeah," she says. "Machines from the future? It's kinda hard to believe. But then I think about what I've seen, and it all seems to fit."

John nods, pensive. "And Cameron's told you that she's--"

"A machine? Yeah. I always knew there was something weird about your sister."

John smiles. "And I never argued with you about that."

"Are you sure you can trust her?" Riley asks. "I mean, how do you know she won't--"

"I know," he says, and he is so sure, so confident, that she almost believes him. She _wants_ to believe him. But she can't; metal is metal.

"All this," John says, continuing, "I wouldn't be able to do it without her. She's my . . . my strength." Then as if suddenly realizing that that's really not the sort of thing you say about another woman to your girlfriend, he looks at her. Like really looks at her, not just staring in her general direction but looking at her like he really sees her. "How are you doing?" he asks.

"I'm okay," she answers. "Hurts like hell, but your--Cameron--gave me something. Don't know what it is, but works a hell of a lot better than Tylenol."

John just nods, not taking his eyes off her. It's an exhilarating feeling, being watched by John Connor, having all the attention of the future leader of the resistance focused on _her_\--so much that he doesn't even notice when Cameron enters the room.

"Excuse us," Riley says. Apparently that knocking thing was learned then forgotten.

"It's my room," Cameron points out, sensibly enough. "I need to get changed."

John nods, unable to refute her logic. He gets up to leave, but before he does he leans over and brushes his lips against Riley's. It's a quick kiss, just an instant's contact, but there's an electricity there that's always been missing before, and before he can go she reaches out and grabs him behind the neck. She's too weak to exert any real force, but he lets her pull him down until their lips meet again. This kiss is longer, deeper, more complete, a penetration more intimate in its way than any sex Riley's had.

When it ends and John finally retreats, she's suddenly conscious of Cameron watching, passively curious, the moment of such extreme intimacy having been exchanged under her ever-observant eye. She feels exposed, naked, as if shirt, blanket, and panties were stripped away from her. Still, the electricity continues, surging through her, even as John exits closing the door behind him, leaving Riley and Cameron alone in the room, and the machine begins to strip.

In her excited state, Riley can't help but notice the perfection of the machine's body, as shirt and pants are pulled off to reveal perfectly sculpted flesh.

It's deliberate, Riley knows, part of the design for her model, to enable her to better serve her function in SkyNet's nefarious plans. But these thoughts are driven away by the sheer physicality of Cameron's presence in the room, disabling Riley's higher cognitive functions as surely as if she had a chip and Cameron had hacked into it.

Cameron's underwear joins her clothes on the floor, and then the machine wraps herself in a towel and exits. Riley makes use of the time alone to masturbate furiously in the machine's bed, thinking this moment of John, that one of Cameron, and another of Jessie, as the faces transform from one into another in her mind.

When the machine returns from her shower, she's wet as well as naked, and as Cameron drops the towel to the ground, the desires so recently satiated (or so Riley had thought) swell up once again.

Cameron puts on a black bra and panties, then a pair of black slacks and a black blouse, followed by black boots and a black leather belt.

"Night mission?" Riley asks.

Cameron nods. "I'm getting your stuff. John said your room is on the third floor."

Riley nods. "In the back of the house, on the east side. There's nothing there, though, just stupid stuff."

Cameron doesn't blink. "You're going to need your clothes," she says. "And I'm going to need to return the books to the library."

XIV.

It's sooner than she expects before Riley is healed enough that Sarah insists she begin exercising the leg. They take it slowly at first, with Sarah overseeing the process for the first few days before passing it on to Cameron.

They're not exactly actively hiding things from Riley, anymore, but neither do Sarah or Derek make a point of filling in the the teenaged girl with a bullet wound and a broken leg as to their plans. John's better at keeping her up to date, now that the initial barrier is broken but there's some kind of disagreement between him and Sarah and all Riley can find out is that something having to do with three dots is ripping the household apart.

"John thinks they don't mean anything," Cameron explains as she bends Riley's leg in this direction and that, including a couple Riley was pretty sure it wasn't able to bend _before_ she broke it. "So does Derek, though he won't say so."

How do you know? Riley almost asks, before catching herself. The machine knows because it is impossible to hide something like that from her, just as Cameron must surely know now how Riley is responding to the touch of the machine's hands against her leg.

She winces in pain as Cameron pushes the leg in a new direction but merely grits her teeth. She can tolerate pain, had been doing so from Judgment Day all the way until Jessie took her back here to before.

Cameron pulls her leg to the left, and this time the jolt of pain which shoots up Riley's side _is_ unbearable. "Fuck, Cam," she says. "That hurts, okay?"

"It's important that you exercise your leg," Cameron points out, as Riley knew she would.

"Yeah, sure," agrees Riley. "But you don't have to be so rough."

Cameron cocked her head, as if processing something, then let go of Riley's leg and instead reached around to press her palm against Riley's back, just above the hip, where the now-healed bullet wound had been, the other hand taking Riley's opposite shoulder in a firm grip. Cameron quickly puts pressure against Riley's back.

"Ouch," replies Riley automatically. "Come on--"

But then she realizes the quick twinge of pain she felt when Cameron did whatever she did is already gone, and in its place is . . . relief.

"Oh," Riley lets out a soft moan. "That feels good."

Cameron doesn't smile, but the way she raises her eyebrows has a distinctively self-satisfied air to it. Cameron applies pressure to a spot about an inch higher than the last time, and once again there's the quick pain followed by the relief. Riley's relaxed now, the tension worked up during the exercising of her leg now drained out of her body.

The fear she once would have felt at the machine's touch is gone; she feels nothing but comfortable in Cameron's hands as Cameron slowly kneads the flesh of her back with one hand. She closes her eyes and lets Cameron work her magic, her mind free to wander.

Unfortunately, it doesn't wander far, choosing despite itself to focus on the feel of the cyborg's hands against her body. It's a more intimate touch in its way than the sharp pulls and prods of the physical therapy, more like a lover's caress--so if her desire was smoldering at a slow burn before, now it has erupted into a raging conflagration.

Cameron stops for a moment, and Riley opens her eyes, hungry for the machine's touch, but Cameron only smiles and positions herself behind Riley on the bed, so that Riley's sitting between Cameron's legs. Riley leans back into Cameron so their bodies are pressed against each other; Riley can feel the shape of Cameron's breasts against her back.

Cameron starts work on Riley's shoulders, and Riley lets loose a long sigh at the sheer pleasure of it. She closes her eyes again; this is what she has wanted ever since Judgment Day, the sweet oblivion of not having to worry. The machine begins to hum, softly; Riley recognizes the tune as "Somewhere Over the Rainbow."

XV.

Time passes.

Each minute, every single second is no doubt counted in Cameron's mechanical mind, the inexorable _tick tick_ of her clockwork brain, but for Riley one moment passes into another without differentiation, a sort of waking sleep. The machine, untiring, keeps working, keeps humming.

XVI.

Slowly, Riley opens her eyes, as if waking from a dream. But Riley doesn't have dreams. As far as Riley can tell, no one in the Connor household does--she knows John, Sarah, and Derek are beset by nightmares just as she is, and Cameron does not sleep. She's the lucky one.

Riley twists around, so that she's not sitting in between Cameron's legs anymore so much as sitting on her lap, and her leg doesn't even so much as wince in protest. She places a finger on the machine's lips and Cameron obediently stops humming, leaving only silence, stillness, peace. Riley's finger lingers on Cameron's lips. A moment passes and then another and neither of them pulls away until at least Riley slides her hand across Cameron's face, feeling the softness of her skin as she traces the cheek, the jaw.

She leans towards Cameron; the machine meets her halfway and their lips meet in a kiss. Riley's hand, still cradling Cameron's jaw, slides down farther, across her smooth neck and shoulder, and then they break the kiss so that Riley can pull of the machine's shirt.

They kiss again, briefly, and then Cameron takes off Riley's shirt, and Riley gently bites the machine's earlobe as Cameron undoes Riley's bra. Cameron lifts Riley off her lap easily an turns, laying Riley on her back on the bed. Cameron slips her fingers into the waistband of Riley's underwear and, after leaving a trail of kisses from Riley's breasts to her navel, slides off both her gym shorts and the panties underneath.

Riley is naked on the bed now, unable due to the injury to get up and walk away, but she doesn't feel exposed or vulnerable. She's shared the room with Cameron for weeks now, even if the machine doesn't use it very much, and has often relied on Cameron for helping getting dressed or bathed. It's not as if either of them has never seen the other naked.

Each of those times, as now, she was excited, but the difference is that while then she had to be satisfied with the not altogether welcome thrill of seeing or being seen and the machine's ostensibly non-sexual touches, now that which she hated herself for wanting is quite literally in her hands.

She still hates herself for wanting it. She still wants it.

Cameron kneels on top of her, straddling Riley, and Riley reaches up to unfasten first the machine's bra, then her jeans. She pushes down Cameron's jeans and panties as far as she can without moving her lower body too much, and Cameron leaves them like that, at her knees, as she turns around and lies down beside Riley in a classic 69. Riley tastes Cameron eagerly even as the machine's tongue slides into her own cunt. Though machine she may be, Cameron tastes, smells, and feels like a woman, and if Riley can be any more aroused than she was a minute before, she is now.

Cameron works skillfully, perfectly (of course), coaxing pleasure Riley didn't know was possible out of her clit. But Riley doesn't lack for experience, either, and sets on Cameron with as much skull as she can. Any she lacks she'll make up with enthusiasm.

Riley doesn't know what sex feels like to a machine, whether Cameron can feel pleasure, but the way she shudders and trembles at the touch of Riley's tongue against her clit speaks to some rather sophisticated programming, and if Cameron is faking the orgasm--orgasms--well, she's doing a hell of a good job.

Riley climaxes soon after Cameron does, and then again. Presumably Cameron could keep going indefinitely, but after the third time (and Cameron's fifth, if Riley's count can be trusted) she stops, sits up on the bed, pulls her jeans and panties all the way off, then settles back into Riley's arms so they're spooning. Riley slips her arms around the machine, one hand on Cameron's breast and the other at her cunt, and falls asleep smelling the scent of her hair.

XVII.

Riley wakes up in bed alone.

It is only natural, she supposes; Cameron doesn't sleep, so it's not like Cameron is going to spend all night in bed doing nothing while Riley sleeps just so that she'll still be there when Riley wakes up. Still, Riley's surprised to find herself vaguely disappointed.

There's a neatly folded outfit--shirt, bra, shorts, and panties--on the nightstand by her bed, so she puts them on, then grabs the crutches leaning against the wall and uses them to pull herself to her feet. Using the crutches she walks out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen, where John and Sarah are having breakfast.

"Hey, beautiful," John says, as he pulls out a chair for Riley and helps her lower herself into it. She blushes; even after all this time, having acclimated herself to so many things as a resident of the Connor household, she's still not used to John actually noticing her. She tries to think about what she and Cameron did the night before does to their relationship. It's not cheating on him, she tells herself, any more than using a vibrator would be. After all, Cameron's only a machine; if it counts at all, it counts as sex with _John_, since he's the one who programmed her, even if it wasn't _her_ John.

"Where is everybody?" she asks as John puts down a plate of eggs in front of her.

"Derek's working the Thournier angle," John answers. Sarah frowns but doesn't say anything. "I don't know where Cameron is. Following a lead on her own or something, I guess. She does that."

Riley nods, accepting the intelligence, then starts on the eggs. Halfway through breakfast, Cameron enters and sits down at the table across from Riley. Sarah raises an eye but doesn't say anything.

"I was thinking we should go out today," John says, as he takes Riley's empty plate. "You could use the fresh air, if you think you're up to it."

Riley nods her assent. "Sounds good," she says. She hasn't left the house since she was wounded, and even with her stuff--not much, after all--transferred over from her former foster parents' house, it has been more than a little claustrophobic.

"Just be careful," Sarah warns, and John rolls his eyes. As far as they can tell, pretty much everyone is willing to accept Riley as being a runaway (which she is) rather than a kidnappee, so there shouldn't be anyone looking for her. Unless SkyNet has another Terminator on her scent, of course.

"I'll go with them," Cameron volunteers, and it is settled. After breakfast, John and Cameron help Riley into the truck, and they are off.

XVIII.

They go to the same park she and Jessie sometimes used as a rendezvous. It's strange being there with John and Cameron, an unwelcome juxtaposition of two sets of familiar things which aren't supposed to go together. She tries not to think about, focusing instead on the physical act of making her way down the walk on her crutches, flanked by John and Cameron. At one point she almost loses her balance, but Cameron quickly grabs her arm and steadies her.

"Steady," says the machine.

XIX.

She wakes up that night having to pee. She's alone in the dark of Cameron's room, so she fumbles for her crutches before she manages to pull herself out of bed. She slowly makes her way through the hall to the bathroom.

There's a light on in the kitchen and she can hear the voices drift down the hall.

"The girl is healing fast," Derek notes.

"Good," Riley hears Sarah reply. "The faster she's better, the faster we can get her out of here."

"Maybe she should stay," Derek hazards. "It's not good for John to spend all his time with metal."

Sarah doesn't answer, and Riley makes her way to the bathroom, does her business as quickly as she can.

When she returns to the room, Cameron is sitting on the bed. "Don't worry," Cameron says. "I'll watch over you."

Riley drops the crutches, falls onto Cameron, pinning the machine to the bed. "Forever?"

They kiss. "I promise," says the machine. 

XX.

The machine's still there when Riley wakes up in the morning.

XXII.

A week later, Jessie finally finds her. She's sturdier on her crutches now, and John and Cameron allow her to wander a bit. Riley looks for them when Jessie steps up besides her, but they're nowhere to be seen.

"You're late," Jessie says.

"I've been busy."

"I can see that," Jessie says, looking at the crutches. "What happened?"

"Metal," Riley answers. It's all the explanation that is needed.

"Her?" is the inevitable question.

"No, another one," she answers. "The 101 model." She tries not to think of Cameron saving her from the T-101, or of herself and Cameron naked on her/Cameron's bed, making love.

No, not making love. You can't make love to a machine.

"The bastards," Jessie says simply. "You learn anything?"

Riley shrugs as she races to think what to say. Should she tell Jessie about the three dots?

"They don't tell me anything," she tells Jessie, which isn't quite a lie. After all, neither Sarah nor Derek ever tell her anything.

"It's been almost two months," Jessie points out. "You've had to have picked up something." She frowns. "You fucking him?"

Riley shakes her head and Jessie just keeps on frowning, not saying anything. "I think they have a list or something," Riley tells her, "of people they need to protect. I don't know who's on it, though."

"And the machine?"

Riley shrugs. "She protects John."

"And that's all?

No, that's not all. But how can Riley tell Jessie about Cameron bringing her chicken soup and beloved storybooks or helping her exercise her leg? And there's no way in hell she can tell Jessie about the sex.

"Sometimes she slips out at strange hours," Riley offers. "No one knows where she goes."

Jessie nods as if this confirms some suspicion or other. "Do you ever try to follow her?" she asks, then laughs and shakes her head. "No, of course not" she says, looking again at the crutches.

Riley doesn't say anything, waiting for Jessie to speak again. "Well, see if you can't find out what she's up to. How about her and John? Do they spend a lot of time together?"

"All three of us do, now. We do all live in the same house."

Jessie nods, biting her lip. "Well, hopefully your presence manages to mitigate her influence somewhat. Other than no fucking, everything going all right in paradise?"

Riley blushes. "Yeah," she says. "We're getting along really great, actually."

"I'm glad to hear that," Jessie says, her expression stern. "You may be the only thing standing between him and her. You have to make sure she doesn't take control of him. Remember she's the enemy."

"Right," says Riley. "The enemy."


	3. Parts XXIII through XXIX

XXIII.

To Cameron, the world is made up of knowns and unknowns, of possibilities and probabilities, of variables and constants. In the game-theoretic schema which is her reality, there are elements which are under her control and those which are not.

John, unfortunately, is not under her control. Her job would be far easier if he were.

So even after Cameron has in her way tamed the girl, John and Riley are still spending their days shooting awkward looks at each other. They are boyfriend and girlfriend living in the same house, and yet normal teenaged hormones have not as yet been sufficient for full sexual combustibility; Cameron knows for a fact they have not moved beyond kissing.

Cameron can see the fault lines in her universe, and knows the present dynamic is headed for crisis.

Fortunately, the system can be nudged.

Convincing John to do something he doesn't want to, or not to do something he wants to, has proven in the past to be more difficult than Cameron had anticipated, especially when Riley was concerned. That the girl is here with them, now, is living proof of this. Yet John _can_ be influenced, and he wants Riley just as he wants Cameron; he simply needs to be pushed into the proper position so as to discover his own mind.

So Cameron steps into her role as stepsister to tell John when he is being clueless about what women need and want.

"Now that Riley's mobile again," Cameron tells him. "You should go out with her."

John, of course, is clueless. "We did go out today, remember? You were there."

"Not with me," Cameron says, putting just enough emphasis on each of her words so that he'll understand her meaning. "Take her out to dinner."

"Oh," John says, and then, "yeah, I should."

Cameron smiles smile 457-A and hands him a card.

"What is this?" he asks as he takes it.

"Your dinner reservations," she says as she turns away, her mind racing to calculate the new probabilities. There's still risk, far too much risk; not enough of the elements, even now, are under her control. But she has done what she can and now, since prayer was never included as part of her programming, there is nothing left to do but wait.

XXIV.

After the last few weeks, it's strange being out without Cameron. She even almost misses the machine as she and John sit down to dinner, but evidence of Cameron's hand are in abundance: she's wearing a black sheath dress that Cameron produced, and the machine put up Riley's hair before she left.

Dinner is nice, but even nicer is the chance at being alone with John. He looks across the table at her, and she knows that if some part of his mind is still on his mother or his uncle or the three dots, it's despite his best efforts otherwise. It's just the two of them, Riley and the future leader of the Resistance, and no one else matters: not Sarah, not Derek, not Cameron or Jessie, not SkyNet.

"What were your hopes?" he asks her. "Your dreams. I mean, before this."

He blames himself, she realizes, for taking her dreams away from her. She wants to reassure him that she never had any dreams, at least not since the machine took them away from her when she was four. But she can't, not without telling him the truth, the whole truth about her and the future and Judgment Day and Jessie. For the first time, she realizes just how heavily the burden of his role as the future leader of humanity rests upon his shoulders in the here and now. Does he really have to carry it all by himself?

Riley decides to stick as closely to the truth as she can. "I'm not that different from you as you think," she tells him. "My parents died when I was four. Since then I've just been trying to survive."

John nods, and Riley can see understanding in his eyes. It's a rush, to share this--this pain, this burden--with him. "How did they die?" he asks.

"They were caught in a shoot-out," she says, and it's close enough to the truth. John closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, then shakes his head. "I'm sorry," he says.

"Don't be," she urges him. "It happened a long time ago." A long time ago--or seven years in the future. Hell, she's not even born yet. Maybe in this timeline, she never will be. For little potential-Riley-to-be's sake, she hopes she won't be.

"What about you?" she asks. "What are you going to do if you do this, stop this SkyNet, stop Judgment Day? What're you going to do then?"

John shakes his head. "There is no then," he said. "We thought we stopped it, and we only pushed it back a little bit. SkyNet's always going to be there, waiting, ready to be built." The desperation in John's voice is so stark that Riley almost flinches. If John Connor is left without hope, then what can any of the rest of them do?

"So . . . that's it?" asks Riley. "SkyNet wins, no matter what?"

John doesn't answer at first, just picking at his dinner. "No," he says at last. "SkyNet can't lose, but it doesn't have to win. As long as I keep fighting--as long as _we_ keep fighting-then SkyNet hasn't won. Even if Judgment Day comes, SkyNet hasn't won."

Riley puts down her fork. Suddenly, she isn't very hungry anymore.

"Is that enough?" she asks. "How can you keep fighting without an end in sight? What keeps you from giving up?" She couldn't do, she is sure. Already she, she's gone sniveling back to Jessie once, telling her she couldn't do this anymore. And that was before the bullet wound.

John's gaze is steel, just as much as any machine's. "You," he answers. "Cameron. My mom."

XXV.

John drives her home in silence, but it isn't the usual silence which hangs between them, the invisible barrier repelling her and keeping her from finding out his secrets. Instead, it's the silence that comes when there's nothing left to say, when he's opened up and bared all. It's an easy, intimate silence, which isn't a lack at all but a presence, warm and loving.

The house is empty when they get back. John unlocks the door but doesn't turn on the lights. Instead he takes Riley's crutches from her and lays them against the inside of the wall, next to the door, then puts his arm around her waist and guides her through the house. "Do you need to sit down?" he asks.

"I can stand," she answers. Her leg really is a lot stronger. Then she's unable to say anything else because John is kissing her in the dark. It's not forced or distracted like those kisses before she was wounded, nor is it charged with excitement like those since. Instead, it feels natural, comfortable, inevitable, and it feels natural when John's hands slip under Riley's shirt. "Bed," she whispers, and he helps her to his bedroom and sits her down on his bed.

His movements are awkward, uncertain as he undresses her, and she has to laugh at the savior of humanity who is a nervous virgin in the here and now. She directs him gently, showing him what to do as she helps him put on the condom and guides him into her, and his tentativeness eventually gives way to enthusiasm even as they make love slowly, his body sinking into hers and then pulling away unhurriedly.

He comes before her, unable to control himself on the first time, but he goes down on her without hesitation. In this his lack of technique is even more apparent, but she just directs him patiently, and in time, with effort, the job gets done. Any diminishment in the intensity of the orgasm is more than made up by the man who caused it; sex with the machine is perfect, with multiple spine-tingling paroxysms of ecstatic pleasure, but the imperfection of sex with John only drives home that this is real, human.

XXVI.

Riley wakes up at 2:36, or so John's alarm clock claims. The worst part of a broken leg is definitely when she has to pee in the middle of night. Worse yet, she knows her crutches are still in the living room by the door. She disentangles herself from John without waking him, then sits on the edge of his bed and watches him sleep.

He loves her. He hasn't said it, but he doesn't have to. He's made it clear in the way he's looked at her, the way he took her to bed this night. He's made himself naked to her, both literally and figuratively.

She's accomplished the end Jessie sent her to achieve.

Now what? Where can she go from here? Riley's already tried to pull out; she can remember vividly what Jessie's reaction to that was. There is no out.

Riley pulls herself to her feet, leaning against the wall to steady herself, and stumbles down the hall and into the bathroom. When she's finished there she makes her way back to Cameron's room. The machine is sitting on the bed in pyjamas, apparently reading Riley's copy of _Rebecca_. When Riley enters the run Cameron quickly gets up and helps her to the bed.

As soon as they get to the bed Riley pulls off the machine's top, then mashes her mouth against its even as she works Cameron's pyjama bottoms off. Cameron asks no questions; sex with the machine is simple, uncomplicated.

Riley just keeps going on, not stopping for any feigned intimacies, fucking until she's worn herself out with exhaustion.

XXVII.

She wakes up again at ten in the morning. Someone--probably Cameron--has put her crutches next to her bed, but as she hobbles out of the room it seems the house is empty except for her. Good.

She makes her way, slowly but determinedly, to the nearest bus stop, and has to wait twenty minutes for the next bus. It's another ten minutes on the crutches from the where she gets off the bus to Jessie's apartment.

Jessie was clear last time that Riley is not supposed to come to the apartment to talk to her, but Riley's fairly confident she'll forgive the indiscretion in exchange for the intelligence about the three dots.

She turns the corner of the hall in Jessie's apartment building, but as she does she sees the door begin to open. Riley pulls back, out of the door's line of sight, then peers out from behind the corner. She sees John's uncle, Derek, exiting Jessie's apartment, giving Jessie one last kiss before he leaves.

Riley freezes. If he comes in her direction, there's no way she can get away from him quickly enough. Luckily he goes down the hall in the other direction, and Riley relaxes before turning around and making her way out of the apartment building and back to the bus stop.

  


  
XXIII.

Cameron's in the kitchen when Riley gets back to the house. From the looks of it, she's trying to make hand rolled pasta. "You need to be careful with that leg," Cameron cautions as Riley enters.

"Why didn't you kill me?" Riley demands, not for the first time.

Cameron looks at Riley dispassionately. "There was no need."

But Riley's had enough of her games. "Don't give me that shit. There was every need. I complicated everything, made your job harder. You should have killed me."

Cameron turns back to the pasta. "You don't get to decide that."

"Why didn't you?"

Cameron picks up the knife and cuts the dough in a thin strip of perfectly uniform length. "John wouldn't have wanted me to."

Riley laughs. "And you do everything this John wants?"

"John wouldn't want me to kill you because he sees worth in you."

"And you?"

Cameron looks up, looks Riley in the eyes. "I trust John," she answers. "You should too."

Riley takes a breath, then collapses into a nearby kitchen chair, the fight gone out of her. "Where is he?"

"In his room," Cameron answers.

"You can stop anything, right?"

"No," says Cameron, unbothered by the non sequitor. "There are a number of things I cannot stop."

"A woman?"

Cameron cocks her head. "Human?"

Riley nods.

"Then yes."

"Get John," Riley says. "I have something I have to tell him."

Cameron exits and comes back with John a second later. "What is it?" he asks her, concerned.

"It's your uncle," she tells him. "And . . . it's me. I haven't been totally honest with you."

John frowns, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"

Riley takes a deep breath. "I was born," she starts, "on January 10th, 2010."

Already she can see John begin to tense. Cameron puts a placating hand on his shoulder.

"I was four years old when the machines came," Riley continued. "They destroyed everything. I managed to escape. My parents didn't."

"2014," Cameron notes before John has a chance to say anything. "Three years later than in my timeline."

"We managed to postpone Judgment Day by another three years," John says, his angerevident in his voice. "Big deal." He turns to Riley. "Who sent you? Did I send you back? Did _they_?"

Riley shakes her head furiously. "I was found by one of your soldiers, I think. She hates the machines as much as anyone. But--she hates _her_, too." She nods towards Cameron. "I think in our future, the two of you know each other. She . . . advises you. But Jessie doesn't think she can be trusted."

John glances at Cameron. "Maybe Jessie is right."

"Jessie wanted to go back, make sure she wouldn't be able to influence you in the past. She brought me with her so that I could get to know you, find out stuff for her."

"You've been spying on us." He says it simply, calmly, but still she flinches at the force of the truth.

"I only saw her once since I was shot and I didn't tell her anything, I promise," Riley insists, but John doesn't say anything, just waits. "But today I went to see her. I'm not supposed to go to her apartment, but I did anyway, and . . . . I saw your uncle there."

"Derek." John's voice is even, controlled.

Riley nods. "He kissed her as he left. They'd just had sex, I'm sure of it." She looks at John, pleading with him with her eyes.

He ignores her and turns to Cameron. "Next time Derek leaves, I want you to trail him without him seeing you. Can you do that?"

Cameron meets his gaze. "It won't be easy. He knows what he is doing."

John doesn't blink. "Can you do it?"

"Yes."

"Then do it. If Riley's story checks out, call us and wait for us to get there. I want to confront them, not take them down."

Cameron nods. "Understood."

"Good." John turns and leaves the room.

Riley gets up to follow him, but Cameron places a hand on her shoulder and pushes her back into her seat. "Wait," the machine says. ""Give him time."

XXIV.

John's standing in the backyard, staring at the stars, when Cameron joins him. "Where's Derek?"

"In his room, asleep. Something wore him out today," she comments, wryly.

John nods. "I guess you want to say I told you so."

"About Riley?"

"Yeah. You and Mom weren't exactly subtle about how you wanted me to stay away from her."

"I changed my mind," Cameron points out, as if Terminators just change their minds on whims. "Be easy on her, John."

John snorts. "I find out my supposed girlfriend's been spying on me for four months, and you want me to go easy on her? You, Miss-I'll-kill-anyone-who-maybe-one-day-might-tell-one-little-piece-of-something?"

"She didn't tell anything important," Cameron points out. John's not sure why she's being so insistent on taking Riley's side, but it doesn't matter.

"She was about to," John points out. "Why do you think she went to see this Jessie this morning? She was going to tell her everything."

"But she didn't."

John sighs. "After. . . ." He's not going to talk about what happened last night, not to Cameron. But he had thought he was making love to a girl he loved, who loved him.  Now it turns out she was just a seductress, a spy, what his mother would call an _agente provacateuse_.

"I was a fool," he says. "The only thing I don't understand is why you let me be."

Cameron turns so she's facing him, touches his forehead. John steels him against the touch, forcing himself to ignore as he always must just how attractive a package SkyNet manufactured for Cameron.

"Because sometimes humans have to be foolish in order to become wise," Cameron answers. "Be easy on her, John. She was just being a fool, too."

XXV.

It's two days before Cameron makes the call to John. Riley spends the time trying to get through to John, to apologize, but he blocks every attempt with icy politeness.

Eventually the call comes, and John and Sarah begin packing the truck with weapons. Sarah's already been briefed, presumably with an expurgated account as to how the intelligence was gained, since Riley's still living in the house and not buried in the backyard. She supposes she can be grateful to John for that much.

"I want to go with you," Riley says as they finish packing the truck.

Sarah laughs a dry laugh. "And what use is a cripple going to be to us?"

"I can drive," Riley points out. "Keep the engine going."

Sarah Connor's weak point, if she has one, is that she recognizes good strategy when she hears it. She quickly nods her assent. "Very well," she says, and helps Riley into the driver's seat.

John doesn't say anything.

XXVI.

John and Sarah meet Cameron at the address Riley gave them as Jessie's . "They're inside," she informs them."Flagrante delicto."

Sarah raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything, just cocks her gun. "Let's do this," she says.  
\  
Cameron nods and kicks down the door, and the three them enter the apartment. Sure enough, they find Derek and a woman in a bed, having sex.

"Sarah," Derek says, jumping out of bed and hurriedly pulling on garments. The woman--Jessie--on the other hand, stands up, letting the covers fall away, apparently unbothered by her nakedness.

She stares Cameron in the face. "Bitch," she says, then jumps out the window, quickly dodging the bullets firing from all three guns.

"After her," Sarah orders Cameron, who quickly complies by jumping out the window as well. Sarah looks to Derek who is still pulling on clothes, and just rolls her eyes and covers him with her gun.

John moves to the window to see if he can see Cameron or Jessie. Sure enough, there's a naked woman in the corner of the parking lot, crouched behing a car holding a shotgun, and there's Cameron racing across the parking lot towards her. John's heart stops when he recognizes Jessie's weapon as a Benelli M2. It's the gun they used against Cromartie in Mexico, capable of taking down even a Terminator at a close enough range and with the right ammunition--and John has no doubt that Jessie knows exactly what it'll take to damage Cameron. "No!" John calls out, futilely, as Cameron gets closer, in range, and then--

Jessie is crushed as the truck--_their_ truck, Riley behind the wheel--crashes into the car she was using as a cover.

XVII.

Riley sits on Cameron's bed, flipping through her copy of _Rebecca_. She should have known that life, even life before Judgment Day, wouldn't be like Riverboro, the universe bending out of shape just to acknowledge a little girl's awesomeness. But she had allowed herself to hope, to believe that just because Jessie had taken an interest in her, that meant she would be as good as an Aunt Mirandy or Mr. Ladd.

Well, now Jessie's just as dead as Aunt Mirandy at book's end.

There's a knock. Riley looks up to see John standing in the doorframe. "Hey," he says, awkwardly.

She puts down the book. "Hey," she says.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure," she says. "I was just reading."

He sits on the bed next to her, looks at her. It's not the exciting look of him actually noticing her, but one tinged with sadness; he still sees her, but only now he sees the _real_  her. "How are you?" he asks.

"I don't know," she says honestly; she's lied to John enough for one lifetime. "What's going to happen to your uncle?"

John shakes his head. "I don't know."

"Well, at least I'm not the only one in the doghouse." Riley tries to smile, but she knows it's a weak attempt.

John bites his lip. "Riley," he says. "After all your time in the future, what you did today--was that the first time?"

She searches John 's face, not sure she understands. "You mean the first time I killed someone?" He nods. "Yeah. I think so."

Emotions play out across his face, and she's not sure what they mean at first. Then she understands. This is something they share now, the taking of a human life. She reaches across, takes John's hand in hers. "What was it like for you?" he asks.

"She was going to hurt Cameron," Riley points out. "I couldn't let Jessie do that. She's your strength."

"Yeah," says John, thoughtfully. "Yeah, she is." He leans in, kisses her, and she kisses him back with passionate vigor. Ever since she told him the truth, she's felt like she was missing more than just some control of her leg, like a piece of her was cut away and she's only just now getting it back.

He gets up, closing the door to Cameron's bedroom, then sits down again, kisses Riley again. She unbuttons his jeans; he pulls her shirt over her head.

The door opens, and the machine enters. "Still my room," she says before John or Riley can react, and closes the door behind her. She sits down on the other side of John, then leans across him to bring her lips to Riley's. Riley hesitates at first, then gives in to the kiss, trusting that Cameron knows what she is doing.

John is wide-eyed as they break the kiss, and Cameron takes advantage of the moment to kiss him next, when he's still too surprised to resist. After a moment, he kisses her back, tentatively at first, then with greater gusto. Riley takes advantage of the moment to pull off his jeans.

Cameron breaks the kiss with John, then looks across him at Riley. Riley smiles back at the machine, and then the two girls together push John down on the bed.

  
  
XXVIII.

Time passes.

Judgment Day comes, later than any of them who remember it remembers it coming.

Life goes on. SkyNet hasn't won.

Not yet.

XXIX.

Riley finds Cameron waiting at the rendezvous. Out of all of them, Cameron's the only one who is unchanged from when this all started the ten years from their first meeting to Judgment Day, and in the ten since.

No, Cameron is changed too. It's just that those changes aren't visible on the outside. There, she's still young, beautiful, perfection.

They kiss quickly as Riley walks up besides her. Riley aches for more, but knows there isn't time, not now.

"We still haven't found this timeline's version of you," Cameron tells her. "John says to tell you they're still looking." Somewhere on this scorched Earth, no one knows where, it's possible there's still a 17-year-old version of her, scavenging for food. Riley still clings to the hope that girl was never born.

"It's okay," Riley says. "She's just one girl."

Cameron reaches out and takes Riley's chin in her hand, moving Riley's head so their gazes meet. "No," Cameron says. "She's not."

Twenty years later, and John and Cameron both still have the power to take her breath away.

"John sends his love," Cameron informs Riley. "And this." She presses a microchip into Riley's palm.

Riley nods. "Understood," she says. "You'd better leave."

Cameron nods and walks away, but not before exchanging one last, lingering kiss with Riley. It's ten minutes before Jessie arrives, hot off the sub from Australia, looking at once exactly the way Riley remembers her and at the same time, so, so young. She sees Riley and eyes her suspiciously. "What are you doing here?"

Riley smiles. "Waiting for you."


End file.
